


Engaging In The Process

by Marzi



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Betrayal, Bill does something other than sitting around waiting to die, Drama, Frenemies, Gen, Redemption, good is not nice, mild mind fuckery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-29 11:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18222791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzi/pseuds/Marzi
Summary: "What are you doing?" The Doctor looked at Missy, it was easier than staring at where Bill was not.A crooked, awkward smile flickered across her face, brief enough that it might have only lived uncertainly at the edges of her eyes. "Why, engaging in the process."She'd used his link to Bill. Sent something along after his plea, but the lift was already gone, down far enough away that he couldn't tell what it was."What did you do."





	Engaging In The Process

**Author's Note:**

> So I re-watched the end of the tenth season because I like feeling sad about life I guess, but what it really did was remind me how bullshit it is that Bill Potts spends TEN YEARS in a hospital that creates cybermen and didn't realize what was going on. Sure, she doesn't know what they are, but are you telling me that a bunch of people suffering horribly didn't concern her? Like what?
> 
> So I decided that the Doctor's command literally forced her brain into inaction. Which is fucked up Doc, like what the hell. I also really love Missy so of course I could never get tired of exploring what redemption would look like for her, so, yeah. Doing that.

 

 The Doctor's hand hadn't fully pulled away from the lift doors when a sudden weight pushed it back against the metal. Missy's hand was slanted across his knuckles and didn't reach the edge of his fingers, but he felt suddenly paralyzed. Just because she appeared delicate didn't mean she was any less dangerous. Her dark nail polish was smooth and perfect, she'd applied a fresh coat just before they left.

 

"What are you doing?" He looked at her, it was easier than staring at where Bill was not.

A crooked, awkward smile flickered across her face, brief enough that it might have only lived uncertainly at the edges of her eyes. "Why, engaging in the process."

She'd used his link to Bill. Sent something along after his plea, but the lift was already gone, down far enough away that he couldn't tell what it was. He pulled his hand from under hers, grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. _"What did you do."_

She looked down at his hands, where his fingers dug into her clothes and skin, that familiar slow smirk creeping across her face. Her head lolled back crookedly to rest against the bulkhead when she finally lifted her eyes to look at him. "Not now dear, mummy and daddy musn't argue in front of the children."

He released her, walking back until he could see Nardole from the corner of his eye. He would deal with him later, once they were back at the university. He would be free to yell at him about his plans with Missy once they all got back. Once Bill... His head whipped to the side, searching for the errant, blue, trigger happy, pudding brain.

"Right. Let's get this sorted."

* * *

Bill didn't want to think about being blind. Too much about being blind had nothing to do with her current situation. Which hopefully had nothing to do with not being able to see. Except, she didn't see anything and she wasn't sure if it was because her eyes were closed or if she was blind. She was thinking about it at least, which meant she wasn't dead. She wasn't dead.

Bill gasped and sat up, hands grasping for her chest. Something tugged at the back of her hand, but she ignored it when her fingers hit something that wasn't her chest. Or it was. She looked down. She could see. That was good. She wasn't blind, but that now meant she could see the thing grafted to her. See the shape of it pressing against her operating gown at least. Was she in hospital? When she tried to look across the room there was only a figure standing at the window.

_"Wait for me."_

"Doctor--"

He was gone. Less than a shadow. Not there, but whispering. The how didn't matter so much right then as the comfort the thought/voice had brought her. The Doctor was coming. She didn't have to worry. Except about the box in her chest. And the face of a man who was actually standing over her, scraggly and real and  _where did he come from._ _  
_

Bill screeched, and utilizing the tug of pressure from her hand, slammed her IV pole into his face. There was a giggle and an egging whisper of approval at her ear. All in a voice she did not want to hear.

_"Fight."_

She whipped her head to the side, but Missy wasn't there. The man whose nose she cracked was when she turned around though.At least someone was sticking around to give her answers.

* * *

Every moment in the lift was a moment they would be catching up to Bill. One second that was closer to being one second. The Doctor stared at the floor counter, trying to time the shifts he felt his body responding to and the numbers. Being a time lord granted at least some sensitivity to their current situation. If he could concentrate enough, he might be able to figure out how long it was from one end of the ship to the other.

Missy checked her lipstick in her compact mirror. He didn't remember letting her pack a mirror for this trip. There were a lot of things sewn into that dress, and he knew he hadn't found everything. The longer she had stayed in the vault the less important it seemed to find what she was hiding. She would have shown him herself eventually. Would.

Nardole was doing his best to ignore her while also leaning around her to try and speak with him.

"Since we are heading the right way, what was it exactly you two were arguing about earlier?"

Missy's compact snapped shut and the Doctor stared hard at the floor counter rather than let himself look at either of them.

"Damn it, you've made me lose count."

"Already?" Missy tutted.

Nardole ground his teeth. "Fine, be evasive, but if--"

"I know," the Doctor said.

"It's just that Bill--"

"I know."

* * *

Good tea or bad tea, Bill was pretty sure no matter what they called it she would never brew enough to be able to apologize to Razor for breaking his nose when they first met. And the thousand of other little things that had built up over the years. It was hard not to be at least a little pushy though. Not with patients disappearing. Not with faint mechanical whispers of  _pain pain pain_  following her around through each room she cleaned.Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of the Doctor from the corner of her eye, hear his plea--  _wait for me_ \-- and be granted a few seconds of respite, of calm, of hope. She felt perfectly capable of waiting years more when she heard him. That calm lasted only seconds though, because her voice would pipe right in afterwards. Giddy, taunting, a shot of adrenaline right through her system that made sitting still impossible. At least it was just her voice, at least she didn't have to see her, haunting her shadow. Her voice at the shell of her ear was quite enough.

_Fight._

Bill really hated that voice. It made waiting harder. It got scars and blisters across her body when she poked her nose where Razor told her not to, where the nurse locked up behind her. It kept her irritable with the only person showing her any kind of kindness down here, stilted though it was. But most of all Bill hated that voice because somehow, what Missy was saying made a lot more sense than what the Doctor asked. How was she supposed to stand idle when there was so much she didn't know? Shouldn't she be finding out all she could for when he arrived? She might not be able to leave the hospital for long, but there was plenty here to uncover. Hadn't he told her that she was one out of the seven billion that made humans worth it? And he just wanted her to sit on her arse? She had written that essay on free will, seven months late in the end, and with those two warring voices currently in her ear, Bill supposed now was the best time to exercise that will.

She stared down the hallway at the operating theater. The one room she was the most freaked out about in the hospital, if she was being honest. Razor made her drag all the trash down to the furnace by herself because that room creeped  _him_ out. The furnace was just fire and smells she had taught herself to ignore. The theater was... she didn't know what it was. That was why she had stolen the key. The brass felt unusually heavy in her hands, and sweat made the name tag stick to her skin.

It was time to see what was on the other side.

* * *

The Doctor wasn't sure if they were going to have a welcoming committee or not. It was almost disappointing when they didn't. He could have stood to have something clever to do the moment he stepped off the lift. Of course, no committee meant no delays which meant finding Bill would be much quicker. Well, normal, and everyone moving at the same speed was important. Missy was  _e_ _ngaging_ even if some of what that meant was still a mystery. She hadn't clapped when Bill was shot. She hadn't killed the man responsible. She had helped him with the lift without question. She had done something with Bill that he still wasn't decided on, but she was engaging. So he left her with the computer systems and pulled Nardole along with him. They weren't very far down the hall when the quick pattern of hurried feet reached his ear. He shoved Nardole up against the wall with one arm and pressed his back against it, hoping wherever this person was going they would pass right by them.

 

"Patients out of bed, oh I'll show her..."

 

The Doctor relaxed, but didn't move away from the wall. Wheezing hospital staff didn't sound like a threat, but he wasn't decided on letting his presence be known yet. Someone had been directing those creatures to move up the ship and take humans, that man could be it. Or just a harried doctor trying to reach uncooperative patients, which meant he was probably a good person to follow in order to find Bill. Yet the building was so dark, so barren of activity, and the air acidic, making the value of a hospital on this floor minimal. How were people supposed to heal in these conditions?

 

"Doctor, this ship is from Mondas."

 

He jolted back against the wall, cracking his skull a bit, and stared wide eyed at Missy. She was standing in the middle of the hall, one hand on her hip the other clutching her umbrella, speaking in a totally normal voice. He mouthed at her to be quiet. She cocked her head to the side as if she had no idea what he was about.

 

"What was that dear? Didn't quite catch it."

 

" _Missy_." Nardole hissed.

 

The quick patter of feet had stopped.

 

* * *

 

 

It was hot down there. Which honestly, was a lot better than the rest of the building, with how cold it was. Bill hadn't noticed until she started spending so much time in the furnace room. It really could have been preferable if it weren't for the smell. She had gotten pretty good at ignoring it over the years. This was the place Razor didn't like to go. This was the place the doctors and nurses wouldn't bother to tread, because they were always too busy. It was also basically the end of the trash chute which meant all sorts of interesting stuff ended up there. Not to mention what she used to take down for Razor, before she and Razor stopped talking. All the stuff she gathered, the Doctor could probably have built an escape method fifty-times over. Bill was just scrapping by, but she wasn't alone. She had stolen who she could from the theater, when they were under but the doctors hadn't begun yet. It felt odd to think of them as doctors. Butchers, the lot. It had been difficult to convince the first few that she meant no harm. Hard to keep them quiet and safe. They just had to listen to the others for a bit. Their mechanical pleas, because their voices had been stolen away. The lot of them couldn't stay in the furnace forever, some were genuinely sick and Bill wasn't sure what kind of medicine she would need to steal to keep them alive indefinitely. She had to hope that one day there would be enough of them to take back the hospital, or that the Doctor would come for them first. She really hoped the Doctor would come first. Taking care of all these people was nerve wracking, and most of them didn't fully trust her. Not when one moment she would tell them to be calm, to wait, someone was coming, and the next she was yelling at them for walking up the ramps of a slaughterhouse like cattle. For not fighting. Sometimes she worried about her free will. Most days she contented herself with worrying about her mechanical heart.

 

It would need maintenance soon, and she wasn't sure if they would let her go once she showed her face again. Razor at the very least knew what she was doing. What little help he had once offered would likely be gone by this point. She had caused quite a few messes she knew he had to clean up. Still, he was her safest bet. She would sneak back to his room, make him some of the good tea, and hope it was enough to buy her some time. It was also give her a chance to check the monitor, get a glimpse of the Doctor. So long as Razor hadn't changed the channel.

 

The others watched her leave without a word. If she didn't come back, would they huddle down there until they starved? Or would they march back upstairs and let the others complete the horrible process that had begun on their friends? How was that undeath hope to them? What was so bad up above that they would resort to that? She wanted to give them hope, but thinking about her mum only went so far down here. She couldn't share it with the others, not like she had when the Monks had been tapped into her brain. Thinking about her smile did make it easier to walk up the steps, leaving the stinking warmth of the furnace behind her. The hospital was so cold, her sweater didn't seem to do much good. The big chunk of metal right in her center where a vital beating organ was supposed to be didn't help.

 

 

Bill was halfway to her destination when she heard the voices. Proper voices. Voices she knew. Voices that weren't in her head. Hopefully. She wondered if she had to sneeze before she realized her face was scrunched up from smiling. Ten bloody years, oh yes, she had waited. She broke from skulking and hurried forward, skidding to a stop as the end of an umbrella was pointed at her chest.

 

* * *

 

The man who had walked up to them didn't look like a doctor, self-titled or otherwise. The Doctor did not like the delight he saw spark in his eyes when he saw them. Like he knew them. Like he had been waiting for them. People at the bottom of the ship clearly would have had time to prepare, but if he knew they were coming, then surely he would have sent someone to the lifts, or been there to greet them himself?

 

"Oh yes, yes, hello. Hello new faces." He bobbed his head up and down and grinned with wide, crooked teeth. His eyes lingered on Missy the longest.

 

For her part, she didn't seem to mind the attention. Just tapped her umbrella on the ground and sighed. "Well I've done my clever bit Doctor, have you done anything but decide to become wall art?"

 

He huffed and stepped forward, Nardole doing the same at his side. "We were just getting somewhere."

 

"Oh?"

 

Before he could come up with a clever answer, Missy whirled on the spot, brandishing her umbrella like a sword. What had gotten her so jumpy? Nardole squeaked, their scruffy new acquaintance let out an excited shout, and there was Bill. Her hands were raised up, eyes wide as she stared at Missy. She tapped her umbrella against the thing protruding from her chest. The Doctor dashed forward, knocking the umbrella out of the way. He hovered in front of Bill, rocking on his heels, and it took only a second for her to crash forward and hug him. It was nice, except for the stabbing pain in his chest and the smell of burning garbage in her hair. His hands came up to tentatively pat her back before she shoved off of him, making him stumble back.

 

"Bill, I--"

 

"Ten years, Doctor!" Her arms were shaking, hands clenched into fists at her side. Her smile gave way to tears. "I heard you. I waited, I tried waiting, and I still--"

 

"I'm here. I'm here Bill and we will fix this."

 

She shook her head. "There's more than just me, there's..." Her eyes went past him.

 

The Doctor turned. Bill was staring at the man. The man was still staring at Missy. Missy has lowered her umbrella and rolled her eyes.

 

"I know you've been stuck down here with just the wee girl for company, but the last man who looked at me like that couldn't even crawl home after I broke his spine."

 

"Apologies, mistress." He bowed, so low it was a marvel his hat didn't fall off.

 

The hairs at the back of the Doctor's neck prickled.

 

"Ooh, manners. Can I keep this one, Doctor? You've got two, I should be able to keep one."

 

"Missy..."

 

"Razor... helped me, when I first woke up." Bill spoke tentatively. "I was hoping he'd help me again."

 

"He can't do computer stuff too." Nardole crossed his arms.

 

Razor tore his eyes off Missy to look at Bill. "Yes, helped. And look at the trouble I get. Patients out of bed. They blame me. More mess to clean."

 

The janitor? The Doctor kept himself in front of Bill. Missy's hand was flexing on the handle of her umbrella. She didn't believe it either.

 

"Tell me where they are. We go together. Clean up mess."

 

Bill must have shook her head, for Razor's forced joviality faded and he sighed. "Fine, fine. Keep secrets. You all will come for tea, yes?" He took a step and no one followed. "The others will come soon. Looking for patients. They will not offer tea."

 

Missy swung her umbrella up on to her shoulder and started walking. Nardole looked to the Doctor before following Razor. Bill grabbed his hand. He squeezed her fingers before moving forward.

 

"Oh." Missy let out an over exaggerated, oops-clumsy-me sigh. "Teensy thing I forgot to mention, there's cybermen here."

 

* * *

 

Bill kept expecting the Doctor to vanish. He was no longer telling her to wait, and everyone else was with him, even Razor, but still. There were no more whispers at the edges of her consciousness, but she was still on edge. How were they going to help these people? Everyone was up in a huff about these cybermen, and there weren't enough cups for tea at Razor's, but it was made anyway. Nardole and the Doctor were the only ones to get a cuppa in the end. Bill had managed to shake her head at Nardole so at least he knew not to drink. No need to sour the somewhat happy mood with bad drink. At least Razor's room didn't reek of garbage, though Bill was beginning to think she might if the wrinkled noses were anything to go by.

 

"So cybermen are bad, yeah?"

 

Missy hummed. "Well--"

 

"Yes." The Doctor cut her off. "They are bad. But we're lucky."

 

"How are we lucky?" Nothing about this excursion had been lucky so far.

 

"These are young cybermen, or they would have fully converted everyone by now. No reason to leave so many people in-between if they had the process fully figured out."

 

Bill touched her mechanical heart. "Am I a cyberman?"

 

"No."

 

She wanted to believe the Doctor, but Nardole was fidgeting with his tea and Missy was checking her nails. Razor was puffing around his kitchen. Bill marched up to him, almost as if that mad giggle was still in her ear.  _Fight_ _._ _  
_

"You knew. You knew what was going on and you did nothing."

 

Razor's eyes darted around the room. "What can I do? We must be strong."

 

"You don't even know what's out there! How do you know what they're doing here isn't worse?"

 

The Doctor took a sip of his tea. It must have been reflexive, because he didn't even make a face at the awful taste. "That's a good question. What  _is_  up there. The only life signs detected on the bridge were human."

 

"Then what stopped them from coming back from the solar farms?"

 

"Well, maybe they're on their way back." Nardole put his tea and saucer down on a shelf, safely keeping it from getting too close to his mouth. "Time is a bit funny here."

 

"Well goodie, problem solved. Mayflies just need to learn to be more patient." Missy had shoved several things on to the floor and was lounging on a work bench with her umbrella. "Humans can pop out a few more generations and wait for their friends to get back."

 

"But they're dying down here!" Bill glared at her.

 

"And that doesn't take care of the cybermen problem." Nardole did his best to look at Missy like he was a headmaster scolding an errant student. "If you were ready for any kind of test you would know that you can't leave cybermen alone with innocent people!"

 

"Doctor, he's biasing you against me, I demand he remain silent for the remainder of my test."

 

"Now listen here--"

 

Bill ignored them both. "Doctor?" She had never heard him be quiet for this long.

 

Teacup and saucer shattered when they slipped from his grasp. Bill stepped towards him, hand outstretched. Missy was on her feet in an instant, umbrella pointed at Razor.

 

"What did you give him." It was a demand, no time for patient questions now.

 

Bill barely heard her as she and Nardole moved to support the Doctor. Between the two of them they managed to get him towards a chair. Bill stared at the shattered ceramic and dark puddle on the filthy floor. Poison.

 

Razor started to laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

"Idiot!" The Doctor jumped up. Tried to jump up. Maybe he sat up. Or maybe he just opened his eyes. Too many warning signs. Too distracted. He hadn't been paying enough attention. Idiot. _Idiot._

 

"Doctor?"

 

"Nardole." He sat up correctly this time. "Where--" It was hot, and it stank. There was a warm red glow to the room and at least a dozen gaunt faces staring at him. None of them were Bill. "Where's Bill?" He didn't want to think about the other absent face.

 

He put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and managed to keep him in place. "She's here. But Doctor--"

 

He stood up and the world went sideways. He wasn't sure if he fell over or not. His hearts stuttered in his chest. He doubled over which at least meant he hadn't fallen. Standing up while in pain was better than writing around in it, right? "I was poisoned." By Razor-the-not-janitor. Razor who was-- Bill had known him. Why had Bill known him? "Bill. What's wrong with Bill?" The Doctor stumbled forward and clutched Nardole's shoulder to keep himself upright.

 

"Doctor I'm right here. Calm down before you pass out again."

 

He had to use Nardole like handle bars to turn around so he could see her. She was propped up on a pile of stained blankets. She looked exhausted. There was a faint beeping coming from her chest. Nardole started to lower him back to the ground, and since that was where Bill was, the Doctor decided against protesting. He fished his screwdriver from his pocket and began scanning her.

 

"It's why I was looking for Razor earlier. My... heart needs maintenance."

 

A most horrific example of planned obsolescence. "Well you've got me now."

 

"Yeah." She forced a smile.

 

"I need some things, I need--" He tried to stand and Nardole just pushed him back down.

 

"Tell me what you need. Our Ms. Potts hasn't been idle Doctor, there is a lot here." Nardole puffed up, as if he had been the one tutoring her at university. "And we don't need you falling flat on your face again. Getting you down the stairs was a pain."

 

"Yes, where exactly are we?"

 

"Hospital furnace. All the garbage ends up here. It was my job to burn everything, but I started collecting instead."

 

He looked over his shoulder at the faces in the distant corners, still silently watching. "Picking up more than parts, I see."

 

"I couldn't just stand by, not once I knew what was happening. Those things, those that took me... it's them. It's the people here. But Doctor, they're suffering, I don't know if--" The beeping at her chest grew louder and her breath stopped short.

 

"Hush now. I understand. Nardole. Parts!"

 

What he managed to rig wasn't very refined, but with such a bulky design to work with already, it wasn't like it was going to get any uglier. At least the battery running her mechanical heart could build up its own charge now. Strain would still task it to depletion, but it was the best he could do with what he had. Especially with his hands shaking. Now he just had to keep everyone calm and get out of here. He tried to do the comfort thing as he worked. He wasn't sure if it was for him or Bill.

 

"You did a good thing here, saving all these people."

 

"Doesn't feel like I've saved them. They're still stuck down here. I'm... sorry."

 

"Whatever for?"

 

"I couldn't wait any longer. Not with..."

 

"Not with what?"

 

"Missy."

 

Ah. The one thing the Doctor really did not want to discuss right now.

 

"Every time I heard you telling me to wait, I could hear her too."

 

His hands stilled. The message, the message she had sent down that he hadn't heard. Nardole had stopped trying to talk to Bill's rescuees and had slunk over to listen in. "What was she saying?"

 

"She told me to fight."

 

He blinked. "Fight? Not maim? Slaughter? Burn?"

 

"No. Just... fight."

 

That was... the Doctor wasn't sure what to make of that. A simple command, but coming from Missy, it suddenly could mean a thousand other horrible things. What could she have meant when she sent that? Fight for her life? No, Missy had already been certain Bill was dead (she had been). Fight her captors? What, in the hopes that she would lose against a superior force? Fight for what? What was Missy fighting for?

 

"Doctor?"

 

He lowered his sonic and she pulled a blanket up over her chest. Out of sight out of mind.

 

"Do you think Missy's alright?"

 

"I thought she scared you." He began to rummage through the left over parts Nardole had brought him. It was amazing the things one found in the trash.

 

"Yeah well, I might not have been stuck in a vault but I was stuck in this hospital, had a lot of time to think. She is scary, but.. she helped too. Waiting... it wasn't enough."

 

"I tried to get to you as soon a I could, I--"

 

"Doctor. Don't. I'm," she smiled, genuine, bright, relieved, "so happy you're here. But I'm also not ready to forgive you." Her smile faded. "Do you think Missy is going to be alright? I don't know why Razor did what he did, but she stayed behind and we got out because of her. She told us what to grab so you could detox. That was gross and cool by the way. Are we going to get her back?"

 

"I don't know if she's going to want to come back, Bill."

 

"What? Why not? What aren't you telling me? She didn't make the tea, she--"

 

"She did, in a way. Razor was... is, Missy."

 

"What?"

 

"We talked about this before we left, do you remember?" It had been a long time for her. "Time lords are different. We.. change."

 

"But how are there two of her? If they're the same person--"

 

"Crossing your own time stream isn't ideal, but it can happen. It's happened to me on more than one occasion."

 

"So, what? You think she set you up? Arranged this whole scenario just so that she could meet up with herself, poison you, then escape? Nah. You said you were doing this because you wanted your friend back, and now you're just abandoning her? Didn't you hear her, Doctor? She was furious with him!"

 

"Yeah, she was."

 

Bill jumped. She had forgotten Nardole was still with them.

 

"Of course we aren't leaving her here." He just wasn't sure who he was going to find when they went looking, and with his hearts growing sluggish and weak, he wasn't sure who he would be once he found her.

 

 


End file.
